The following are a couple of excerpts from "The Myth of Morality" by Richard Joyce. They illustrate some of the primary problems with ethical and moral arguments, not merely individually but in total. It is my view, and that of the book's author, that moral statements are non-cognitive, meaningless. This view, presented along consistent and building lines at least as far back as Socrates, is nonetheless unpopular and almost totally ignored despite the vast import they have on the entire concept of 'morality'.
...
This book attempts to accomplish two tasks. The first part of the book
examines moral discourse with a critical eye, and finds the discourse fundamentally
flawed. Just what it means for a discourse to be flawed will
need to be carefully discussed. For the moment, it will do to compare
the situation with that of phlogiston discourse. Through the sixteenth and
seventeenth centuries, the dominant theory for explaining a variety of
phenomena most notably combustion was to posit a kind of invisible
substance in the world: phlogiston. The theory allowed for various
chemists, such as Stahl and Priestley, to employ what might be called
phlogiston discourse they asserted things like Phlogiston is lighter
than air, Soot is made up largely of phlogiston, etc. In the eighteenth
century Lavoisier showed that this discourse was utterly mistaken: there
simply was no such stuff as phlogiston. I wish to argue that our moral discourse
is mistaken in an analogous way. We assert things like Generally
speaking, you mustnt tell lies and Cloning humans is a terrible thing
and mustnt be permitted, and these assertions fail to be true. They fail
to be true not because lying or cloning are really okay, but because they
employ predicates like . . . is forbidden and . . . is morally good which
are (in senses to be explored) vacuous. Roughly, when one reflects carefully
on what it would take for an action to instantiate a property like being
morally forbidden, one sees that too much is being asked of the world there
is simply nothing that is forbidden in the specifically moral sense of the
word. The thought that morality is a fiction in this way is hardly an original
thought, enjoying a long history that can be traced back through Camus,
Wittgenstein, Russell, Nietzsche, Hume, Mandeville, Hobbes, and all the
way to Antiphon and characters like Callicles and Thrasymachus.
Many pieces of our moral vocabulary, of course, have non-moral uses
(moving ones rook diagonally in chess is forbidden); this non-moral language
is not under attack. A further part of the project will be to argue
that the obvious response of simply asking less of the world that is, of
defining or redefining our moral language in such a way that it matches
the unproblematic evaluative language is to strip the discourse of its
very purpose. The whole point of a moral discourse is to evaluate actions
and persons with a particular force, and it is exactly this notion of force
which turns out to be so deeply troublesome. To push the analogy: if
Lavoisiers concept oxygen is theoretically successful, then why could we
not redefine phlogiston so that it means the same thing as oxygen,
thus rescuing phlogiston discourse from its error? The answer is that when
Stahl, etc., asserted things like Phlogiston plays a central role in calcification,
he meant something quite specific by phlogiston the whole
point of talking about phlogiston was to make reference to a substance
that is released during combustion. To use the word phlogiston to refer
to oxygen a substance that is consumed during combustion is to undermine
the very heart of phlogiston discourse. Likewise, to use the words
morally forbidden to refer to an unproblematic notion of impermissibility
perhaps one with the same logic as You mustnt move your rook
diagonally, or You ought not stay up so late is to undermine the very
heart of moral discourse.
...
If there are reasons for action, it must be that people sometimes act for those
reasons, and if they do, their reasons must figure in some correct explanation of
their action . . .
In other words, something is a reason only if its consideration could
potentially motivate the agent...This point dovetails with my earlier claim
that an adequate account of practical rationality must not leave an agent
alienated from her reasons. If a normative reason could not potentially
motivate an agent, then, if presented with such a reason, an agent could
say Yes, I accept that is a normative reason for me, but so what? and
this, I have urged, is unacceptable.
....
In short, when we say that a person morally ought to act in a certain
manner, we imply something about what she would have reason to do
regardless of her desires and interests, regardless of whether she cares about
her victim, and regardless of whether she can be sure of avoiding any
penalties. And yet after careful investigation we have found no defensible
grounds for thinking that such reasons exist. Few people in the actual
world may be so heartless or so impregnable to recrimination, but that
is beside the point. Moral judgments are untrue not just because they
sometimes ascribe reasons for (say) honesty to people who have no such
reasons. They are untrue even when they ascribe reasons for honesty to
people who do have reasons for being honest, in that they imply that those
reasons would remain in place across counterfactual situations when in fact
they would not. The distinctive authoritativeness which characterizes our
moral discourse turns out to be well-entrenched bluff.
...
This book attempts to accomplish two tasks. The first part of the book
examines moral discourse with a critical eye, and finds the discourse fundamentally
flawed. Just what it means for a discourse to be flawed will
need to be carefully discussed. For the moment, it will do to compare
the situation with that of phlogiston discourse. Through the sixteenth and
seventeenth centuries, the dominant theory for explaining a variety of
phenomena most notably combustion was to posit a kind of invisible
substance in the world: phlogiston. The theory allowed for various
chemists, such as Stahl and Priestley, to employ what might be called
phlogiston discourse they asserted things like Phlogiston is lighter
than air, Soot is made up largely of phlogiston, etc. In the eighteenth
century Lavoisier showed that this discourse was utterly mistaken: there
simply was no such stuff as phlogiston. I wish to argue that our moral discourse
is mistaken in an analogous way. We assert things like Generally
speaking, you mustnt tell lies and Cloning humans is a terrible thing
and mustnt be permitted, and these assertions fail to be true. They fail
to be true not because lying or cloning are really okay, but because they
employ predicates like . . . is forbidden and . . . is morally good which
are (in senses to be explored) vacuous. Roughly, when one reflects carefully
on what it would take for an action to instantiate a property like being
morally forbidden, one sees that too much is being asked of the world there
is simply nothing that is forbidden in the specifically moral sense of the
word. The thought that morality is a fiction in this way is hardly an original
thought, enjoying a long history that can be traced back through Camus,
Wittgenstein, Russell, Nietzsche, Hume, Mandeville, Hobbes, and all the
way to Antiphon and characters like Callicles and Thrasymachus.
Many pieces of our moral vocabulary, of course, have non-moral uses
(moving ones rook diagonally in chess is forbidden); this non-moral language
is not under attack. A further part of the project will be to argue
that the obvious response of simply asking less of the world that is, of
defining or redefining our moral language in such a way that it matches
the unproblematic evaluative language is to strip the discourse of its
very purpose. The whole point of a moral discourse is to evaluate actions
and persons with a particular force, and it is exactly this notion of force
which turns out to be so deeply troublesome. To push the analogy: if
Lavoisiers concept oxygen is theoretically successful, then why could we
not redefine phlogiston so that it means the same thing as oxygen,
thus rescuing phlogiston discourse from its error? The answer is that when
Stahl, etc., asserted things like Phlogiston plays a central role in calcification,
he meant something quite specific by phlogiston the whole
point of talking about phlogiston was to make reference to a substance
that is released during combustion. To use the word phlogiston to refer
to oxygen a substance that is consumed during combustion is to undermine
the very heart of phlogiston discourse. Likewise, to use the words
morally forbidden to refer to an unproblematic notion of impermissibility
perhaps one with the same logic as You mustnt move your rook
diagonally, or You ought not stay up so late is to undermine the very
heart of moral discourse.
...
If there are reasons for action, it must be that people sometimes act for those
reasons, and if they do, their reasons must figure in some correct explanation of
their action . . .
In other words, something is a reason only if its consideration could
potentially motivate the agent...This point dovetails with my earlier claim
that an adequate account of practical rationality must not leave an agent
alienated from her reasons. If a normative reason could not potentially
motivate an agent, then, if presented with such a reason, an agent could
say Yes, I accept that is a normative reason for me, but so what? and
this, I have urged, is unacceptable.
....
In short, when we say that a person morally ought to act in a certain
manner, we imply something about what she would have reason to do
regardless of her desires and interests, regardless of whether she cares about
her victim, and regardless of whether she can be sure of avoiding any
penalties. And yet after careful investigation we have found no defensible
grounds for thinking that such reasons exist. Few people in the actual
world may be so heartless or so impregnable to recrimination, but that
is beside the point. Moral judgments are untrue not just because they
sometimes ascribe reasons for (say) honesty to people who have no such
reasons. They are untrue even when they ascribe reasons for honesty to
people who do have reasons for being honest, in that they imply that those
reasons would remain in place across counterfactual situations when in fact
they would not. The distinctive authoritativeness which characterizes our
moral discourse turns out to be well-entrenched bluff.